


From the Centre of the Hollow Moon

by delicate_mageflower



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Positive, Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Justice Positive, Kinloch Hold, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Other, PTSD, Panic Attack, Past Abuse, Post-Canon, Repressed Memories, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicate_mageflower/pseuds/delicate_mageflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke has left to help the Inquisition. In her absence, Anders's nightmares get worse, for reasons he hadn't even known were there.</p><p>
  <b>[NOT abandoned, but on hiatus]</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Centre of the Hollow Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much an establishing, introductory chapter. Tags and warnings, and potentially the rating, will change as the story progresses. Content warnings for emotional, physical, and sexual abuse are definitely worth noting now and as it continues.
> 
> And, an incredibly important note, thank you so much to HeroMaggie for all your help in getting this started, for letting me bounce ideas off of you, for the fact that I will undoubtedly continue to do so, and for all of the helpful suggestions you've provided thus far!
> 
> Also, a final note in case anyone was actually wondering, all of my work follows the same continuity, as I am so very dedicated to this pairing, all of their friends, and—possibly most importantly—all of my headcanons upon headcanons about everything, and I just keep everything based around my personal main canon world state.

Anders woke up screaming. He was used to nightmares at this point, at least as much as one can be, but these were...different. New, unexpected. Worse.

He fumbled around the bed, reaching out for Hawke but finding only empty space beside him.

"Right," he muttered aloud through his exhausted daze. "She's not here."

Panic began to set in, and he started to breathe faster, more heavily. Justice twinged in the back of his mind, a jumble of thoughts Anders couldn't quite pick out. He looked down at their hands as those striking blue streaks began to manifest through them, noting the light carrying all around him and all across the room, enveloping it with that ethereal aura, but he felt no shift of control. The glow just radiated around them, pulsating rhythmically, encouraging Anders to slow his breathing to match its pace.

"I'm not alone. I'm not alone," he exhaled. "I know. Thank you. I just wish she were here, too."

Anders could feel Justice's agreement, his light fading as Anders's panic began to subside. His mind was suddenly flooded with images of playful kittens and he allowed himself a momentary smile, grateful that he still had someone there to comfort him, even if Justice couldn't touch him, couldn't hold him the way Hawke could. The way she would if she were there with them. _Fucking Corypheus._

"Fuck..." Anders nearly shouted, panic quickly rising again as his thoughts turned abruptly towards the reason Hawke's side of the bed was vacant, and his own recollections suddenly overwhelmed Justice's attempt to help. "Fucking Maker-damn fuck, I hope she's okay. Andraste's tits, please let her be okay, Maker please, let her make it home..."

He buried his face in his hands, knees coming up to meet his chest as all of his focus descended to the Warden prison where they had last met Corypheus, how close that fight had been, how they _knew_ they had killed him yet she was still somehow off to help the Inquisition deal with his return, when he heard the jingling of a small bell approaching as he began to sob.

"Messere Fluffington," he managed to choke out shakily, "how nice of you to join us."

The little cat meowed quietly in reply before curling up beside Anders's hip. Hawke had joked when she'd first received Varric's letter that she wasn't going anywhere until she had found him a kitten to keep him company while she was gone, but Anders had quickly realised that it was less of a joke than a promise, and one she had gone out of her way to make good on. After much searching around the small, secluded village outside Hossberg they'd settled into, as well as through some of the neighbouring towns, she'd met a nice gentleman whose own cat had just had a litter he couldn't take care of, trying his best to push them on the locals, and of course she'd just had to find the runt to bring home to Anders.

"No one else wanted her," she'd told him, "but I knew that if anyone could make sure she'd be healthy and properly cared for..."

He remembered his eyes welling up then, too, but that time out of happiness. He'd kissed her softly, and then again, deeper, with progressively more intensity as she'd pressed harder against him and cupped her hands around the back of his head, tugging at his hair. They'd wasted no time in removing their new kitten from the room as Anders had shown Hawke just how grateful he'd been to get her, and then they'd cheerfully opened the door back up afterwards to let her in to cuddle with them. That had been a very good day for everyone involved, even though they'd had the knowledge that Hawke would be leaving soon, neither of them knowing when she'd be able to return, looming over their heads. But it was a fond memory nonetheless, and Anders was glad to have it brought to the forefront, silently thanking Justice.

Anders slinked back down into the bed, careful not to disturb Messere Fluffington too much. As soon as his head hit his pillow, he grabbed Hawke's and held it close, the silent tears he hadn't yet been able to fully hold back falling against it. He closed his eyes, listening to the comforting sounds of the loud purring by his side, curling into the blanket for the strange illusion of protection its warmth and weight always provided. He drifted off to thoughts of Hawke happy and safe and home, teasing their kitten with a string, laughing that beautiful laugh he loved so much, grabbing his hand and kissing the tip of his nose.

***

It was still dark outside when he woke again, sweating despite the fact that the blanket had been kicked half-way off the bed and the cat had left as well. _Probably scared her off tossing about_ , he guessed with a sigh. He had held his grip on Hawke's pillow, though, and he took some small comfort in that. He tried to imagine that it still smelled like her, but he was no longer sure if it really did or if he was just getting desperate. She'd been gone about a month by then, after all, and he was certain that she wouldn't be holding up much better through their extended time apart. He hoped that wherever she was, she was at least getting better sleep than he. He knew the chances of that were slim, but then again, she probably wasn't experiencing anything quite like _this._

He had been dreaming of Kinloch Hold, the same dream that had awoken him earlier in the night. His time in the Circle was a common subject for his nightmares, but they were usually just repeats upon repeats of the same several scenes. He would dream of solitary, of the beatings, of the smitings, and even—every once in a while—of what it had felt like being taken for his Harrowing, or realising that Karl had gone to his. The Templars had laid hands on him more times than he could count, and at night he was regularly bombarded with vivid memories of being restrained, whipped, shackled, thrown, quite literally, into a cell. Both Hawke and Justice were always there for him on those nights, and as a result the dreams had grown less frequent as time went on, but they still couldn't entirely keep him from them no matter how hard they tried. It was always taxing, but at least the dreams were familiar, a fact he never could have imagined he would ever have to appreciate. These new night terrors, however, had come from nowhere, and they explicitly depicted experiences he couldn't place as his own. Surely this level of brutality, abuse so...invasive was the only word he could grasp, unable to even so much as think about any other way to describe it...surely they couldn't be his own memories. He was well aware that such things were not uncommon in the Circle, but he'd been fortunate enough not to have any personal experience. _Wasn't I...?_ But they felt so real, and his mind raced as he reached out for Justice. But he felt different, too. He was much quieter than usual, especially after a bad dream. He was distant, almost detached. It hadn't been this off-putting to have the spirit floating around in his head since Kirkwall, and Anders didn't know what to make of it.

"Come on, Justice, you can't leave me with this right now," Anders begged out loud, voice cracking. "Please, what's happening? I don't understand, where are you?"

Before he knew it, he was weeping into Hawke's pillow, gripping it so tight his hands ached. His thoughts raced with what he had seen, what he had felt in his dreams. Templars leaning over him, holding him down, threatening him to remain silent, telling him through harsh whispers that this is what happens to mages who can't follow orders, that this is just what he deserves, that this ought to put him in his place...Justice remained still, unsure of what to do, and struggling with the very idea of uncertainty. Anders could feel it as he would start to surface, trying a few times in rapid succession, but each time he would quickly fall back. Anders felt like he was suffocating, continuing to silently plead with Justice to give him something, _anything_ , with fear over his sudden retreat building.

At that, Justice reached out with a simple sense of his presence, and Anders could feel the expression of regret over scaring him, but there wasn't anything else there. He tore his face away from the pillow to breathe for just a moment when it dawned on him.

"They're real, aren't they? All of that really happened."

Justice buzzed in the back of his mind, Anders detecting a sense of guilt accompanying it.

"And you've known all this time, haven't you?"

Their skin flickered for just a second this time, Justice trying to convey something to him, but he couldn't pick up on just what it was. Anders tried to get it back to him that it was okay, that he was sure he had his reasons, even though he wasn't really sure of anything in that moment, but they were both too distraught, finding that neither of them were really in a place where they could console each other, despite their best efforts.

"Well, I imagine this probably explains a lot," Anders noted dryly. The misunderstandings, how Justice had once come to feel so strongly like Vengeance and why Anders, despite his own strong feelings towards their cause, could never quite seem to wrap his head around it...

He suddenly had a sharp image of Fenris brought to the front of his thoughts, recalling how he had, for a long time, been unable to remember anything from before he received his lyrium markings, and how finding his sister had triggered some of his more traumatic memories of Danarius to resurface.

It had been a long time since they'd last spoken to him, and neither of them knew how far into his lost memories he would be by this point, if he was even any further at all, but Justice was right.

Resigning himself to the fact that he would not be resting that night, Anders moved to the desk and began to write.

_Varric,_

_I know you're keeping tabs on all of us, so I know I can turn to you for this favour. I need to see F. I'm sorry, I can't tell you why. Not yet, at least. I know that you know where to find me, have him come here as soon as possible. As discreetly as you can, please. I owe you one._

_-A_

_P.S. Don't tell Marian. I can't concern her right now. Don't worry, I will talk to her when she comes home._

_P.P.S. Make sure she does._

**Author's Note:**

> As I have mentioned on Tumblr, I strongly headcanon Anders as struggling with repressed memories. As someone who personally knows what that's like, it just makes a lot of sense to me regarding not only Anders's characterisation, but also elements of his relationship with Justice as we see it throughout DA2. This headcanon is just, for obvious reasons, something that has very quickly become very important to me, so I decided I need to try to do something creative with it. And yes, the title is an AWOLnation reference, but that song reminds me so much of Anders that I just decided to go with it.


End file.
